Never known
by CharonRiju
Summary: A place for me to dump all those little ideas that keep annoying me. Third: Prussia and the beginning of the Wall.
1. Not Valentine

It is a not very wide known secret that Alfred has never send a single Valentinesday present to Arthur.

Now, most would think that is because Alfred is _really_ not fond of his former occupying force, just like Arthur is no longer all that fond of his former colony.

And most would be dead wrong.

Because no matter what an awesome hero he has become and how often he saves the day these days, a part of Alfred will always be the little boy that adored his Big Brother.

When Valentine's Day became a trend Alfred happily made it another holiday, since one can't have enough of those, right?

Right.

So he's happily giving out chocolates every year. And because he's the Hero that everybody loves, he has to love everybody back, right?

Dictators don't count, so he's right.

Thus why he gives chocolate to anybody who stands still long enough.

He never gives anybody roses. Ever.

It's not that he's got a problem with roses. They're pretty and all.

But ever since he can remember, roses were kind of Francis's thing.

And since Alfred was a very smart and observant kid (naturally, since he became the Hero) he knows that sometimes hi Big Brother would get a whole bunch of red roses. Send from France.

His big brother would snort and shake his head and sometimes laugh about "stupid french-frogs that are stuck in the past". Then he would throw the roses away.

All but one.

He would always hide one from Alfred. And at night, when Alfred _should_ have been sleeping, his big brother would always stare at that single red rose like it was the most important thing in his world. And he'd look incredible sad. Every time.

Now that he's a responsible and mature adult Alfred can admit that he was always a bit vexed when Francis send roses. Because they always left his brother in a secret depression and naturally he'd worry.

Not because he was jealous that they stole Arthur from him. Not at all.

That is partly why he never send Arthur anything on a chocolat-and-roses-and-love-holiday.

The other part is, that he's just not in love with Arthur. Obviously.

But that's no reason to worry. Alfred is a Hero and heros give presents even to grumpy old englishmen.

Just not on Valentine's Day.

He sends one on Mother's Day instead. 


	2. Twosided coin

Passion

Antonio is a cheery guy and when he's not being exceptionally dense he is very polite, too.

He is helpful, friendly and likes to share. So you see, he is generally a really nice person.

Generally being the keywort. He's the country of passion after all.

Because he's so nice and optimitsic all the time, others tend to forget that there is more than one side to passion.

Passion is bright and sunny and burning. It's dark and burns until it consums you.

Antonio knows this better than most, since his passions burn stronger than most. Strong and dark like the color of dried blood.

There is a certain madness to his darker passions, he knows that very well. So he tries to keep the worst of them down and under control.

_But a fire can only be opressed for so long. All that is needed is a spark, a bit of wood, an opportunity a coincidence and then your embers will be a burning inferno, a hellish nightmare, unstoppable in it's might. And you will be swept away by the flames until there is nothing left but ashes._

And there is one passion that has been smoldering for a long, long time.

It flares everytime green-tinted dark eyes glance his way, a pout is thrown in his direction, hands are closer to his than they need to.

The flames of his hidden passion lick at him everytime he comes home to an irritated voice, a reproachful glare. To loud rants of anger and irrational demands he just can't understand.

To eyes that look only at him, with the trust of a lonly child and the longing of a harsh young man.

And Antonio has to rigorously stomp down on any and all desires the boy wakes in him.

Because his deepest desires have always been his darkest passions, colored like old blood.

And he has always paid them in blood.

But he cannot bear to see his once-upon-a-time charge bathed in dark red, so he'd rather burn than hurt him.

Antonio resists.

_And his buried desires smolder inside him until the day his flames burn him inside out and leave nothing but the ashes of passion._


	3. Wall

It was not working, Prussia thought, it would never work.

He stared at the barb wire before him, the first step of monstrosity that cut through their land, another thing separating him and his little boy, who wasn't all that little any more.

He can imagine Russia's smile.

That benevolent, bright, _fucking smug_ smile of his and he just wants to punch it out of his face.

But he can't.

He lost.

He's under Russia's thumb now, like it or not, and that guy had no mercy when it mattered.

Gilbert's half of their (_yes, THEIR, his and his brothers and he knows his boy would roll over dead before giving it up)_ city had already bleed once, he won't let them be overrun by Russian tanks anytime soon.

So, Prussia grinds his teeth together until it hurts and stares straight ahead.

He does not despair, he does not rage, he does not yell.

He just stares silently.

He has withstood a lot to get where he is now, he has lost even more. To save the little boy that eventually became HIS little boy.

He will not let that wall of grey hopelessness defeat him. He will not bow to Russia's demands forever and he WILL tear that blasted wall down, even if it takes him a century, he swears he will.

And eventually, he will get his little brother back.

Until then he will bow down, he will let Russia dictate him, use him, like the blond idiot uses his brother. He won't interfere while those two fight it out.

Prussia clenches his hands until his nails leave sharp, little bleeding half-moons and stands straight.

He won't give up, ever. He lost his lands, his pride, his capital –his _god damned_ NAME- but he will survive.

And he'll make sure that Ludwig does too.

He promised a little beaten boy he'd make him whole and strong again. That he'd watch him grow into an awesome respected empire. That he'd take care of him.

Gilbert snorts.

Empire, Republic, _Nation_, it was all the same these days anyway. He intends to keep his promise, no matter the sacrifice. Or name.

He turns away from what will soon be the Berlin Wall and holds his head high.

_Keine Grenze ist unüberwindbar_, he thinks defiantly.


End file.
